emotions radically expressed to fit the not-so-normal mind and feed its strive for the unreal, the unmoral and the not-so-politically correct.

Wednesday, 6 May 2009

The long letter I never sent.

I wake upIn my empty bedI look aroundMy infinitesimal roomYou are not thereI look for youOut in the streetsSmell what remains of the scentOf your specterThat just passed byMinutes before I got thereBut all in vainYou are never there

I sit on my deskWait for a sign To have a substanceTo daydream aboutBut there are no signsI am left aloneEven my dreams walked on meEven my imagination betrayed me

And I thought I would give up all I haveAll my emotionsAll my perversionsThe most dear illusions and hallucinationsFor a moment of liberation

But the minute I grasped this liberationBetween my miniature fingersThe moment I smelled emancipationIt just lost its golden swatheIt lost the adrenaline rushI thought it would entice in me

Deliverance is nothingCompared to being trapped Inside that shielded mind of yours